That You Fear the Most
by ryrous
Summary: Post DH. Harry and Hermione return to Hogwarts as teachers and have to contain another evil that has been terrorizing Hogwarts. H/Hr later on.
1. The Tabby on the Sill

**I always thought that the books left a lot unfinished, and I felt like there were SOO MANY things that JK Rowling did in the last two books that didn't make sense to me (Pairs, deaths, Colin Creevey, Really?) So this story is going to go in the direction that I thought the books would, but also i thought it would be fun to try to imagine what would happen after Voldemort was gone. I hope you like it :)**

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><p>"GET UP, GET UP! Honestly! The day wasn't made for you to sleep it away!" Molly Weasley screeched. Harry Potter opened his eyes and rubbed them. He was used to this kind of waking by now, And the effect of Mrs. Weasly's shouts had lessened on him, as it had long before done with the Weasley children.<p>

Harry sat up and yawned, he hadn't slept much last night. He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had spent ages on the roof of Big Ben just mugglewatching and being together while they could. Ginny would leave for Hogwarts in a few weeks so Harry had decided to squeeze as much out the summer as he possibly could before real life set in. Ron had been invited to stay with Charlie in Romania to study dragons for the year, and Ron had been absolutely thrilled. He had become hesitant, though, when he realized that Romania meant being far away from his family (and Harry) but more importantly, Hermione.

This summer he had been absolutely glued to her, to the point where Harry had become a little sick of him. Hermione and Ron should have been two people, but the way Ron had been acting he never got to spend time with either one without the other. Ginny was less dependant on him, so they managed to stay separate instead of morphing into one person. Hermione didn't seem to be so fond of her large red-headed tumor either, and by the end of the summer the whole house was tired of their bickering.

"_Honestly _Ron, I'm going to the _bathroom!_"

Hermione had been talking about trying to find a job at the ministry, but Harry didn't think any ministry job would be challenging enough for her. The problem with Hermione was that she was essentially good at everything (she knew it, too) and Harry thought she would just get bored with anything the ministry would offer. She liked to _learn_ rather than be tied to a single, monotonous task.

Harry stood up and put on his glasses, dressed, and went downstairs. Ginny was already seated at the table in the kitchen while Molly prepared breakfast. Ginny smiled at Harry and his half-dead appearance, which brightened up his morning considerably. A tabby cat sat on the window-sill.

Ron wandered tiredly down the stairs, still yawning with his hair in a mess. He tried to say something, but his yawn rendered it incomprehensible, so Ginny said:

"Pardon?"

"I don't remember," Ron replied and collapsed on the table, apparently still trying to sleep. Molly rapped him on the back of the head with her wooden spoon, which got him to sit up with a start.

"It's _rude_ to sleep when there's company, Ronald" She hissed at Ron, then addressing the tabby "Won't you join us, Headmistress?"

McGonagall jumped from the windowsill to the chair in front of her, transforming herself back into human form while doing so. Harry and Ginny sat up a little straighter and Ron looked like a ripe tomato from his embarassment.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley, " McGonagall said. "I assume Miss Granger will be joining us shortly?" Mrs. Weasley turned to Ginny

"Ginevra? Be a dear and go fetch her please," Molly said. Harry would have laughed if it had been appropriate. Though Mrs. Weasley was never as impatient with Ginny as she was with Ron, she was never as polite to any of her children as she was in front of McGonagall, nor did she ever call Ginny "Ginevra".

"Thank you," she called to Ginny's back, which was already disappearing up the stairs. For a few moments, McGonagall and Molly prattled idly while Ron and Harry only sat there awkwardly. It was strange that someone from their school life had all of a sudden appeared in their "real" one. The tension was broken a moment later when Ginny and Hermione appeared. Hermione looked bright eyed and rested, and for a moment Harry wondered if she hadn't given back her time turner after all, but was using it to get more sleep than the rest of them instead.

"Good morning Headmistress," She said, smiling, and sat down next to Ron, who next to her looked as if he had been hit by a train.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," McGonagall said with a nod. McGonagall had always been especially fond of Hermione and her intelligence. It suddenly struck Harry how similar she and Hermione were, intelligent, and with very strong ideals and opinions. Or at least, that's how McGonagall _seemed_.

Molly served her homemade crêpes while McGonagall explained her reason for being there.

"As you know, last year we had a less than ideal Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher" She said. The mood in the room darkened and faces hardened as everything became serious. McGonagall was referring to Amycus Carrow, who last year had taught a class more like "Dark Arts" then defense against them. Up until now, the events of last year had seemed dreamlike, imaginary. The dead had seemed less dead. Most of them anyway.

Harry shot a glance at Molly, whose face had contorted into a look trying to portray confusion while it was obviously a reaction from the absense of her son. The loss of Fred _did_ affect them all a little every day, but a small enough amount that they could all pretend it wasn't there. Of course nobody was surprised the days that Molly was found crying in the bedroom, or Mr. Weasley's smile was less cheery, but there was nothing to be done except to hurt and when it passed, to again pick up their lives until the next time they fell apart. Harry knew it would take a very long time for the Weasley parents or George to heal.

"As headmistress, the positions of our teachers are now at my discretion, as long as the ministry sees the candidate fit" McGonagall paused and looked down to cut her crêpe. Looking up again, she said: "I can think of no better teachers than those who have experienced real battle against the Dark Arts," She said, enunciating every word clearly and crisply, as if she enjoyed the feel of them against her tongue. "Namely, you three," She finished. It was very clear who "you three" were.

The silence that followed was broken by an excited squeal from Hermione.

"Yes! I will, I mean, we will, right Harry?" she said, tripping over her words from excitement.

"Er, well what about, er, Auror training?" he asked, also a little bewildered that at eighteen he could possibly be asked to teach schoolchildren. Hermione waved away his protest.

"You can do that whenever, we're going to be _professors!_" She said, throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated at his hesitance. "Professors Granger and Potter—Ron what are _you _going to do?" She asked, seemingly just remembering him.

"I er, don't know, I already told Charlie that I'd go to Romania" he mumbled, a little offended that Hermione had addressed Harry before him. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Are you _sure?_" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, it's fine Hermione, I'm not a teaching type anyway, not like you and Harry" He said, a little disappointed. Harry couldn't see why Ron couldn't change his mind about Romania. Charlie wasn't the type to get offended that easily, and if it was such a great opportunity, why didn't Hermione insist that Ron go to Hogwarts? She probably didn't want him to have to give up something she knew he'd love, even if it meant being away from her, Harry decided. Also, there was some truth in what Ron was saying, in the days of the DA, Ron had been a student, not a teacher.

"So it's settled then, thank you, Headmistress." Hermione said, standing up from her chair.

"I assume you know what to bring?" McGonagall asked, finishing her breakfast and standing up as well. Harry had no idea, but Hermione nodded.

"Good," McGonagall said. She pushed in her chair, thanked Molly for the meal, and in a flourish of cat fur jumped out the kitchen window behind her. A few minutes later they heard the familiar pop of Apparation.

Ginny, who had been sitting quietly at the foot of the stairs jumped up with a start and threw her arms around Harry. She was talking very quickly and Harry could not understand what she was saying; only that she was excited to have him at school with her. Harry wasn't sure what he was going to do or how he was going to do it, but he had Hermione for that.

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><p><strong>Next chapter soon, I was originally going to add something more exciting to this one, but it got sooo long<strong>

**PS. Thank you to mydarkillusion for pointing out that I mixed up Charlie and Bill, It's fixed now**

**Thanks for reading**

**Please review!**

**-ryrous**


	2. The Death and the Candy Frog

**Sorry it took so many days to get this update up, I really would've liked to post sooner, but wehave visitors staying at our house right now so it was hard to get a chance to sit down and right, this is a really long chapter though, hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Sybill Trelawney drank the last sip of her last bottle of sherry, and realizing this, she stood up from her office chair to go steal more from the kitchen. There was absolutely nothing to do these last summer weeks but drink, and drink she did. Preparing for students, pah! Preparing was for people who couldn't see the future, but it had always been this way, McGonagall or Dumbledore had always asked her to help Filch "prepare the school." Some years other teachers joined them, most years no one did. Why didn't the new DADA teacher have to "prepare?" she sighed.<p>

As much as she complained, however, Trelawney loved Hogwarts, she loved McGonagall the way she had loved Dumbledore. Besides, there wasn't anything she was going to do at home but drink, and here she got free Sherry and company most days.

Trelawney hummed a tune as she waddled down the corridors, deciding to be cheerful rather than whiny. She hadn't been home in years, she realized, she had just stayed here. She was interrupted from her thoughts by that prickly sense on the back of her neck that told her she was being followed. She turned very suddenly with a jump, hoping she would startle whoever was behind her, but she did not see anyone. Sybill kicked out in front of her, remembering the talk that had gone around the school of Potter and his invisibility cloak, who knew if another student had one?

"I know you're there, you can come out now" she said, trying to sound knowing. Nobody appeared. Trelawney then remembered that the students would not arrive for another two weeks.

"Old melon giving out," she said to herself, chuckling; Trelawney had never met anyone as entertaining as herself. _It wasn't anything, It couldn't have been_, she thought. However, a few minutes later she got the impression that someone was following her again. With a growing sense of urgency, she walked faster but the sense intensified, and Trelawney knew enough to trust her instincts. She broke out into a full run, praying she knew more about the castle's twists and turns than her pursuer. The usually pleasant fog the sherry put on her brain was starting to confuse her, to make her head spin, and all the while she could feel her pursuer bearing down on her. She headed for the dungeons; there were many secret passages there.

Thinking she may have lost whoever it was, she turned a corner all too fast. That was her fatal mistake.

Trelawney's cries for help were not heard by Filch, who was stroking Mrs. Norris in the Great Hall, sitting in the chair at the head of the room, pretending he was Headmaster. They weren't heard by McGonagall, either, sitting in her office doing paperwork for Lydia Fentle's enrollment.

Trelawney's gurgles were much too soft

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><p>The hustle and bustle of Kings Cross was especially pronounced this morning as a certain train started to fill at platform 9 34. A certain Professor Potter was wondering what could be at platform 9 1/4 if it even existed when he was woken from his musings by Molly's furious goodbye hug, which was then followed by goodbyes from the rest of the non-Hogwarts-attending Weasley clan and Teddy. The baby didn't really know what was going on, but Harry was sure he would be upset once he, Ginny, and Hermione were gone. That baby was, after all, very attached to him. Harry didn't worry though, because he knew Molly would be delighted to have a job to do, and she had plenty of experience with this one.

Ron and Hermione's goodbye was a bit awkward for the rest of the people present, so Harry and Ginny made sure their things made it onto the train. Harry noticed her watching Ron and Hermione's mushy farewell (more so from Ron's side then Hermione's) and grabbed hold of Ginny's hand to make sure she knew that he noticed her, too. As Hermione finally finished and walked toward them, Harry saw the Weasleys beginning to gather, and he could see the slightly bothered look on Ron's face. Harry knew it must be strange for Ron to not be accompanying them to Hogwarts, and he had to say he felt the same.

On the train, Harry noticed a few of the faces of the students. His students. He noticed three in particular: a dark haired boy with a maliciously pointed face, a tiny blonde girl who looked like she had years left before she would get to Hogwarts age, and a comically plump, homely girl with a clever face and forgetfully ordinary features.

Finding a compartment, the three stayed standing and waved at the Weasleys as the train started and started to pull out of the station. Ron ran and followed the train, waving, not wanting to miss his last chance to say goodbye. It reminded Harry of how Ginny had chased the train back in first year. Ron couldn't follow the train forever though, and soon he began to fade into the distance with the rest of King's Cross. Harry sat down and looked at the bushy haired-girl opposite him. She looked oddly small without her attachment, he thought.

Ginny took Harry's small drawstring bag from his lap and started to loosen the strings to see what was inside. Harry had packed his clothes, robes and wand into his suitcase, but had let Hermione manage the teaching supplies. He himself didn't know what was inside, as Hermione had disappeared at Diagon Alley, running here and there to get "everything they needed."

"So what is it you teachers carry anyway?" she asked, opening the bag slightly. Hermione snatched it away and closed it again with a firm look.

"I used lots of sizing charms to get everything in here," she said. "But if you open it, everything will fly out, and we'll spend years trying to get it all back in again."

"What on earth, Hermione?" Harry inquired.

"Just books, quills, robes, and more books" she answered casually. Harry nodded, he had expected something more magical, something he had never heard of. Something new. It occurred to Harry that he had been part of the magical world for quite some time now, there weren't as many things that he'd never heard of anymore.

"It's going to be so strange calling you professor, Harry," Ginny said, not furthering the previous conversation. Harry turned to her and noticed the faraway light in her eyes that she got whenever she was imagining something. There were a lot of things about Ginny like that, subtle little personality and behavior quirks that made her who she was. Harry loved it; it made her a more interesting person.

"What'll happen if I misbehave in class? Will I need a _time out, _Professor Potter?" she asked, wagging her eyebrows at him. Harry wanted to come up with a return quip, but couldn't think of one fast enough to mask the red rising in his cheeks. Hermione snorted.

"Oh Ginny, _please_ do that more, he looks like a cherry!" she said, laughing. "Cherry _Harry_" Ginny teased, still looking at him. Harry didn't know what to say, he wished he was better with spontaneity and words.

The girls had mercy, so they abandoned the game and prattled about the coming year, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Though it was a joke, Ginny really _would_ be his student. Harry hoped it wouldn't make things awkward. What if he had to fail her, would she be able to keep their personal and (for lack of a better word) professional lives separate? He didn't know. Harry knew nothing about teaching, except for the DA of course. How would he manage grading students he knew or liked? He would ask Hagrid, he decided, and hid the issue away in his brain.

As the trolley passed, Harry distractedly waved it away, earning a whine from Ginny. She wanted fizzing whizbees, she said, so Harry stood up to go get them for her.

The crow-faced boy from before was there, the black gelled-to-death spikes on his head only making him look more pointy. It was a very bad look for him, in Harry's opinion. Harry took an immediate dislike to the boy as he noted the rudeness with which he spoke to the little trolley lady. He wanted the frog things, he said, and the trolley lady gave him chocolate frogs, but no, those were wrong, he meant the peppermint ones.

"So sorry dear, I seem to be out of those," she said. Crow-face glared and threw down the chocolate frogs with disgust, reentering his compartment and slamming the door as hard as he could, leaving a resounding BANG! Harry and the lady winced. She bent down to pick up the frog, a little shaken from the boy's outburst. Harry picked it up for her before she got to it (it was taking the little old lady ages anyway) and bought what he needed, fizzing whizbees, Bertie Bott's every flavor beans, and toothflossing stringmints for Hermione.

The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful; Harry even dozed off for a while. When he woke, the train had already arrived, and Hermione and Ginny had been telling him to wake up and get his things.

Ginny had to take a student carriage while Harry and Hermione were to take one of the larger staff carriages, so they parted there. Inside Harry's carriage, there was a small, mousy woman with her arms crossed. She was looking out the window, her whole body pressed up against the side as if trying to look as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Hermione introduced Harry and herself. In a barely audible voice, the woman introduced herself as Kassandra Twender and told them that this would also be her first year of teaching. Though her head was turned towards them, Twender's body was still facing the window, her arms still crossed, as if she didn't want to offend her carriage mates by taking up any extra space. Hermione tried to chat with her (Hermione was rather chatty when excited) but there were ample silences as the woman answered Hermione's questions but didn't make effort to further the conversation.

_How can this woman be a teacher, she's so shy! _Harry wondered. He silently thanked Merlin as the awkward non-conversation faded into a silence that lasted the rest of the carriage ride.

Harry helped Hermione out of the carriage and dusted himself off. He looked up at the dark silhouette of the castle against the starry sky. This place had long been his home, but something about it just seemed… different now.

"It'll never be how it used to be, Harry," Hermione said, as if reading his mind. "That Hogwarts is dead and gone, it died along with Dumbledore, I think." Harry nodded. Hermione was right, she was always right. Harry had hoped that with the war behind them, things might return to how they had been. Hermione grabbed his hand and led him in through the heavy doors, Twender a step behind them.

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><p>In the Great Hall, Harry was hit with another wave of nostalgia. He had spent so many evenings here, eating till he was ready to burst. He had also seen, however, the bodies of so many people he cared about strewn on the floor. Lupin. Tonks. Even Snape, who had redeemed himself to Harry, in the end.<p>

While Harry was again mulling things over in his head (this was a very thoughtful day for him, he realized) Hermione brought them over to the head table, where they both took their seats. McGonagall was sitting in the middle of the table, where the Headmaster always sat, and around her were a few of the teachers that had taught Harry: Sprout, Pince, Binns, Sinistra, and Vector, as well as Twender and a man Harry had never seen before. Twender sat on the end, as if trying to get away from everyone again.

"Where are Trelawney and Flitwick?" Harry whispered to Hermione as the students started filing into the Great Hall.

"Er, I saw Flitwick standing outside the Great Hall, I think he's giving the first years' orientation, and Trelawney's not here, Twender said she was teaching divination. Don't you listen?" She whispered back.

"Even if I had tried to, I wouldn't have heard her anyway," He said. Hermione "hmphed" and leaned back in her chair. McGonagall shot an expectant glance at them, and Harry remembered that he had to be professional now.

The tables were almost full, and Harry spotted Ginny sitting with a group of other Gryffindor seventh years. She was laughing and talking with her friends, who kept pointing to him and Hermione. Harry tried to sit up a little straighter and pretend to not see them.

Just then, the large doors opened again and Hagrid and Flitwick stepped into the Great Hall with first years coming in behind them in a straight line. Harry spotted the tiny blonde and the plump girl he had seen (who had been very hard to find due to her ordinariness). He scanned the room for Crow-Face. A second later, he found him at the Slytherin table. _Of course, _he thought. Hagrid came up and sat beside him, smacking him on the back with a "well hello there, Professor"

The sorting was nothing really out of the ordinary. Flitwick stood at the front with the student list and called the names out, one by one. Agnes Meehan, the plump girl, was put into Ravenclaw.

"Lydia Fentle," Flitwick's voice rang out.

The tiny blonde stepped forward. Daintily, she sat down on the chair as the sorting hat was placed on her head.

The sorting hat seemed to take a long time mulling her over, speaking to her quietly as it had done with Harry so many years ago. Eventually, it called out "HUFFLEPUFF" and the usual clapping and congratulating followed.

After the sorting finally reached its conclusion, McGonagall gave her year start speech.

Thinking about the speeches Dumbledore had given, Harry's mind wandered again, and when McGonagall spoke about the staff additions Hermione had to yank him up with an "Oh get _up"_ out of the side of her mouth. Harry stood, shaken, while they were applauded by the students. Harry heard Hagrid's chuckle in the background.

"Though it would be easiest to avoid such unpleasant matters, this simply cannot be avoided, as the death of one of our beloved professors here has regrettably come to pass," McGonagall's voice echoed off the walls of the suddenly deathly quiet hall.

"I regret to inform you of the passing of Miss Sybill Trelawney, Divination Professor, who was an employee at this school for nearly twenty years, and a dear friend to many." Murmurs started among the students, but McGonagall silenced them with a hand.

If Trelawney was such a "dear friend" as McGonagall put it, Harry wondered why nobody seemed upset about her. The faces of all the witches and wizards at the head table were stone cold, not tearful. Hermione looked utterly shocked, her eyes open wide. Harry knew she had never liked Trelawney, but he knew how she would feel now that Trelawney was gone. She would feel guilty, like she always did.

"So I would like to ask of all of you, to remember not just Sybill Trelawney, but all others who have died or been wounded as of late, and to keep them in your thoughts this year. They died for you, for the future of the wizarding world. Remember that. That is all, you may eat."

The feast was absolutely ruined for Harry, not that he could pretend Trelawney had been so beloved by him, but because of the reminder her death carried.

_We're never free from it_, Harry thought_, death always wins._

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it, because it was a harder one to write (except the beginning, I loved writing from Trelawney POV,) the beginning chapters are always slower anyway, can't wait to get out into the story.<strong>

**Please review,**

**-ryrous**


	3. The Quills and the Reading

**This chapter was a bit more fun to write, I hope you like it!**

**I changed the story title because I decided that it was crappy... hope it didn't throw anyone off.**

**Also, you can expect more or less weekly updates from me, although it may be more now that school is over. I'm traveling a lot this summer so I might be gone for a little during my trip but if the case is that I can't write from wherever I am, I'll try to get more chapters written and then just post them weekly...**

**Anyway yeah, so weekly updates :)**

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><p>After picking through his food and talking a little with Hagrid and Hermione, Harry decided to go to bed early. He hadn't wanted to be the first to leave the feast, and was relieved when Twender was, finishing her food and not saying a word to anyone. Hagrid left directly after, having to carry the very drunk Slughorn back to his quarters. Harry and Hermione said goodnight to him and stood up from the table. Harry was intending to go speak with Ginny, but he was dragged in the other direction by Hermione, who led him out the door of the Great Hall.<p>

"Where are we going, Hermione?" he asked with a yawn.

"I told Twender we'd help her unpack. Honestly, don't you listen at all?," she snapped back at him.

"Well, it wasn't a very interesting conversation," he returned.

Hermione said nothing, but Harry knew her well enough to know that she would be rolling her eyes, even though he couldn't see her face. She was still dragging him along, ever the punctual girl she had been as a student. Curious, Harry yawned again and asked her about their sleeping quarters, he only remembered one room connected to the Defense teacher's office. She explained that it was quite simple to make one room into two, when the correct magic was used. Harry decided not to ask her anymore questions, she was clearly in a bad mood.

Reaching the ladder, Harry climbed up and popped his head through the trapdoor. Inside, he saw Twender with her back to him, in the midst of many trunks, bent over and unpacking one.

"Hi," Harry greeted as he made his way up into the room and bent down to help Hermione up. Twender jumped and whirled around, wand out, with a look of terrified surprise on her face. She looked quite pathetic, and Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the skittish woman. Her face relaxed and her wand arm dropped as she realized who her visitors were.

"Oh dear, you made no noise at all! You nearly gave me a heart attack, I think," she said, breathing hard with a hand on her chest. Harry waited for Hermione to lecture her on the sheer unlikelihood of this, but she said nothing.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Hermione spoke:

"So how can we help?" she asked, walking over to the nearest trunk and laying a hand on it.

"Oh of course," Twender said, "Er, there are crystal balls in there, and Tarot cards over , er, there, I think, with the tea leaves and textbooks,- Oh no! I think I forgot the Self-Write quills!" Twender started running around frantically, checking the open trunks around her for the quills.

"I have extra," Hermione said with a slight smile, and disappeared down the ladder. Harry chuckled to himself. Hermione was always prepared.

Deciding not to wait for her, Harry helped Twender resize the things she did have, the tables, the many, heavy, textbooks, the intricate table cloths, the crystal balls, and many strange other things Harry had never seen before, most of which, Harry guessed, Trelawney had never used or owned, the old bat.

Harry was a bit puzzled. Yes, according to Hermione, they themselves had brought quite a few things, including books, robes, and apparently, quills, but he could not understand why on earth Twender would bring her own _tables_. The textbooks were supposed to be provided by the school, too (the ones Hermione had brought were just extra reference books to help the curious, Hermione-like students that needed to know absolutely everything) but it seemed like Twender had brought everything herself. When Harry asked her about it, she only said "I prefer my own supplies," without a reason to explain. Harry was about to point out that she wouldn't be using her own quills, but he changed his mind, deciding that it was not an appropriate thing to say to a colleague.

_Colleague_, He mused, the idea of being a teacher still not having hit him completely. His thoughts were interrupted by the woman now sitting next to him on the empty trunk.

"I don't mean to bother," she began, seemingly dreadfully ashamed of doing so, "but I was wondering if perhaps I could, er, read you?" Her overly-apologetic face looking as if she felt she was asking him to kill his own mother or the like.

"Pardon me?" he asked. Twender bit her lip.

"Palm read you," she replied, "tell your future."

Harry knew she probably wanted to read him because of his being "the boy who lived," but he himself thought his future had been foretold far too many times. Not wanting to hurt the already incredibly fragile seeming woman, he let her anyway. She took his right hand in her left, and Harry was struck by the cold, utterly weak grasp the hand had.

Twender traced the creases in his skin and bent over to look closer, staying completely silent. Nervously, Harry shifted in his seat, unsure of what her silence meant. After a while she started nodding and making sounds like "mmhm" and "oh!"

During this process, she seemed to gain an energy that didn't fit the woman Harry knew so far. It was like this was the one thing she knew she could do well, and being surrounded in it, she became ten-times more sure of herself. Her grip on Harry's hand tightened and she looked up.

"Well?" asked Harry, a little impatient.

"The first thing," she began, "is that trouble will follow you wherever you go, that much is sure," She said, in a normal person's voice, unlike the mouse whisper that she usually spoke with. Harry said nothing, the "news" didn't surprise him much, he had always attracted trouble the way Viktor Krum had attracted fame-loving teenage girls.

"Er, would you like to know how long you will live?" She asked.

"No thank you," he replied. That was knowing too much.

"Well then, according to this, you'll have an interesting love life," she paused to take a breath, and Harry squirmed as he prepared to be told about a rather uncomfortable topic.

"You'll cause much stir and unrest among those who've stood beside you; you'll break a heart that'll never heal, and if I'm correct, the love of your life stands at the entrance to this room," she stated. Harry yanked his hand away from her and stood up with a start. He didn't like things being decided for him, and he decided on the spot that he would never hear of his future again.

"Will someone _please_ come here and help me with these!" Hermione's voice rang out from the trapdoor.

Connecting the dots, Harry whirled back around to face Twender.

"But you can't mean…" he started to say, pointing a finger in the trapdoor's direction. Twender nodded tentatively, Harry's sudden reaction had clearly bothered her, and the strong woman she had been a minute ago was already starting to fade back into the mouse he was familiar with.

Before Harry could say or do anything, he and Twender heard Hermione stomping her foot angrily below. Harry walked over to the trapdoor, the distance between it and where he stood seeming five times as long as it was, and helped Hermione hoist up the box of quills while she bossily scolded him for taking so long when he _clearly_ must have heard her. Looking in the box, Harry remembered something he had been curious about.

"Didn't Rita Skeeter use this kind of quill?" he asked, remembering with distaste the things that quill had written about him.

"No, Harry, she used a Quick-Quotes quill, these are Self-Write quills, they write down exactly what you say, they don't make up things the way Rita's did," Hermione answered as she climbed up the ladder herself.

"Oh," Harry said, though it didn't really make a difference to him.

Not knowing what to say and feeling uncomfortable because of what Twender had just told him, Harry put down the box and abruptly said goodnight to the two women and jumped through the trapdoor without bothering with the ladder. He didn't want to be around Hermione or Twender right now, so he ran.

Harry was making his way towards his living quarters pondering what had just happened, when he almost barreled into the little Hufflepuff, Lydia Fentle.

"Oh! Professor Potter, I, uh, was, erm…" Lydia stumbled over her words. Harry didn't know what the girl was trying to apologize for, he had run into her. After a few more minutes, her attempts at excuses reminded him that it was past curfew (The reason I'm erm, not in the bedroom- I mean common room, erm, is…). Harry smiled.

"You would do well to stay in bed, Miss Fentle," he said, channeling McGonagall as best he could, trying to sound stern. He was very glad he had taken note of the girl's name. "Roaming around after curfew is not a good way to start your first year off, though Filch may like having a new victim," he said, quite satisfied with his wit.

As Harry sidestepped the astonished girl and walked past her, he threw a last look behind him. Lydia Fentle was making a confused face, and, seeing him looking, she blushed bright red and ran off in the opposite direction, presumably towards the Hufflepuff common room. Harry had never understood the importance of curfew himself, so he decided to like the girl who had already shown considerable spunk.

Not thinking, Harry had started to unconsciously move towards the Gryffindor common room. He did not realize his mistake until he found himself wondering about the password. Taking a detour had made his trip inevitably longer, and before long the thoughts that had haunted him before returned.

Hermione. She had always been there, long before Ginny, and she was his best female friend. She had always supported him, and showed him the right thing to do, saved his life several times too, but what about Ginny? Harry remembered how he had pined for Ginny, how he had hated Dean Thomas for having her. Twender must have been wrong. Of course she was wrong.

In fact, the more Harry considered this, the more likely it seemed. Twender only knew him and Hermione as a unit, so she must just have been trying to play matchmaker. Twender wanted to seem perceptive, he decided. He immediately stopped thinking about it, because an explanation, once determined as such, is usually better left alone.

Having arrived at the Defense classroom, Harry saw that Hermione had unpacked all of their teaching supplies already, which included many books and several boxes of the Self-Write Quills. Harry didn't understand why they needed so many, he himself had never used them in class as a student, why would they need them?

Sighing, Harry climbed the stairs to his and Hermione's joint office and sleeping quarters. He didn't know which of the two bedrooms Hermione wanted, so he just took the first one he saw and flopped down on the bed.

Classes would start tomorrow, and Harry felt completely irrelevant. He knew Hermione had made a lesson plan, but he didn't know what it entailed as he had just decided to let her do it.

_Ought to get some sleep, _he thought to himself. It took a long time before sleep came to him, however, to sweep the unavoidable wispy thoughts of Ginny and Hermione from his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it, I love reviews and constructive criticism.<strong>

**thanks**

**-ryrous**


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